


Transience

by sinumbral



Series: we have our inheritance [1]
Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Childhood, Chronic Illness, Gen, rural life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-07
Updated: 2020-10-07
Packaged: 2021-03-07 19:20:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 369
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26872837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sinumbral/pseuds/sinumbral
Summary: Far from Amaurot, under Azem's watchful eye, a once-doomed village recovers.
Series: we have our inheritance [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1960504
Comments: 1
Kudos: 8





	Transience

**Author's Note:**

> The Azem referred to here is a previous occupant of the seat, not the final one.

"You should bring him to the city sometime. They can help him there."

There's a harsh snort, and Azem looks over the shoulder of the boy before whom she's kneeling at his father. Already there are white streaks in the child's dark auburn hair, and his green eyes show signs of an exhaustion far too great for one so young.

"There is nothing wrong with my son," his mother says, stalking up to them from the small house. "And if there is, it's due to what _you lot_ did. Now leave--you are not welcome here!"

Azem sits back on her heels. It has been six months since the Convocation of Fourteen assembled in Chotam to mitigate the Calamity of Darkness threatening to overtake the region, and she had stopped here in her travels to ensure the villages were recovering--which, for the most part, they were. But the locals had spoken of a child full of Light. In the time before the Convocation, before even the founding of Amaurot and the city's sacred charge as caretaker of the world, he might have been offered as a sacrifice, releasing in death the energies necessary to forestall the building catastrophe.

Now, such things were no longer necessary--but that still left the boy in front of her overflowing with boundless Light.

He taps her on the arm, drawing her attention back to him. "Can I see your glyph again?" he asks. "It's pretty."

She smiles at him and draws a bit of aether--just enough to make the red lines flare to life. "It is, isn't it?"

"Tarsas!" his mother calls, and the boy startles. "Come away!"

The boy gives her a last, sad smile and darts back to his mother's side. She can do nothing for him--not here, not on her own, and certainly not under such watchful eyes as those--much as she wishes she could. All she can do is note his name and those of his parents in the register so that they might be watched over in case of future trouble.

And hope that someday, someone in this small farming village sees sense and brings him to Amaurot before the Light kills him anyways.


End file.
